The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: stocking up.
Things were busy at the bakery first thing (I ended up staying an extra half hour) as people were coming in to stock up a little bit to cover next week's closure. The bread freezes beautifully so it's a solid plan and, honestly, once you've tasted this stuff it's danged hard to go back to eating grocery story bread - even if it's only for a week.
Miles hit seven months today. Don't ask me how, but apparently that's correct.
Mine:
Pile them boxes high,
The apocalypse is nigh!
Now it's just you and me
And... hey, where's the key?
2 comments:
"Grocery story bread?" I'm guessing that's a typo, but I like what it suggests about where your mind is!
The last line of your poem is a wonderful punchline, and made me laugh :)
Stocking up
He paid the call-girls by the day
To treat him like a naughty pup,
If they undressed in any way,
He whispered, "Keep that stocking up!"
Greg - ... how did I not notice that one? Oh well, I shall leave it as I kind of like it as well.
Well, that creeped me out. Good work, I guess? :P
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